


Miscommunications

by MelyndaR



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Accidental Marriage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 06:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20737466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelyndaR/pseuds/MelyndaR
Summary: Kathryn blinked a couple times and swallowed, trying to regain her voice before she asked Neelix for clarification, “Do you mean to tell me…” she waved a hand between Chakotay and herself, “That those people married us? By giving us food, and clothing, and a place to sleep for the night?”





	Miscommunications

**Author's Note:**

> I was appalled at how few accidental marriage fics there were in this fandom, so this is my feeble attempt to add to the ranks.

“This is nice,” Harry announced contentedly, staring across one of many fires lit in an open field.

The crew had spent the last few days on a version of shore leave, enjoying a planet with a mild climate and kind, if backward, inhabitants. The planet was sharply divided between farming communities and those who had proven their intellectual worth in a coming of age ceremony that meant they got to live in far more advanced cities as researchers, scholars, and academics. After ascertaining that the cities didn’t have any technology that _Voyager _wasn’t capable of herself, the crew had wandered out to enjoy the people and the scenery of the countryside.

“It is nice,” Tom agreed from Harry’s left, studying a different cluster of people around a nearby fire. “But I don’t understand why _they’re _getting so much attention tonight.”

“Are you complaining?” B’Elanna asked with a raised eyebrow for her husband from Harry’s right.

“It’s not a complaint,” Tom corrected. “Just an observation.”

“Lieutenant Paris is right,” Neelix said, twisting around to narrow his eyes at the fire where Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay were sitting with a group of the community’s elders. “Even though I know that the cities’ technology makes this an appropriate people for Star Fleet to make contact with, the country folk are very different – much nicer, in their own way, but their dialect makes them much more difficult to understand, and…” He trailed off, muttering something under his breath as he drained the last of the Trojander cider they’d all been given at some point during the festivities that the Trojanders were throwing tonight. Festivities that were apparently meant to center around the captain and Chakotay.

“What is it, Neelix?” Tom asked. “Do you know something about these people, what their intentions are tonight? Because it’s a nice party and all, but I get the feeling that—” A line of drummers emerged from one of the four huts that were at corners of the field, beginning a cacophonic rhythm even as he spoke. Tom raised his eyebrows, finishing, “They’re ramping up to something.”

“If they were,” Harry said, “We wouldn’t necessarily even know it. The language barrier has proven difficult part of the time.”

“That’s my point. Neelix, if something about this is bothering you, you could tell us.”

Trepidation leaked suddenly into B’Elanna’s voice as she said, “In fact, you probably _should _tell us.”

Tom turned to look at what had caught his wife’s eye. The elders had stood with the captain and Chakotay… they were separating, the women going towards one of the four mud huts, and the men another. The drums changed now, to music that the Trojanders and even some of the crew began to get up and dance energetically to.

“Should we…?” Harry asked, shifting nervously now.

“They went willingly,” Neelix said hesitantly. “It may be only another part of the festivities.”

“But what else do you think it ‘may be?’” B’Elanna asked him.

“Let’s give it a bit,” Neelix said, waving for the trio across from him to settle back down. “I don’t want to sound an unnecessary alarm and ruin the evening if we don’t have to. Go… go dance. That’s something we almost never get to do on the ship, you know.”

“We do know that,” Tom said warily, studying Neelix now instead of the Trojanders.

Neelix eyed them all sharply. “If I believe something unsavory is going on, I will tell you immediately. Until then, we deserve this break, so let’s take it!” He jumped up, grabbing Harry’s wrist and taking him along as he joined the dancers around the fires.

Tom turned a questioning look to B’Elanna, who rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his waiting one. They made their way into the crowds, but neither one of them were as easily placated as Harry, and though they danced side by side, they did so from one fire to the next, until they were at the fire nearest the hut the captain was in.

She emerged with the village women almost twenty minutes later, looking no worse for the wear, but perhaps… confused. She was dressed differently, in the plain tan, black, and white dresses of the natives, with red ribbons woven intricately into her hair. Chakotay, too, came from the hut he’d been in, blue ribbons woven into a headband that he wore around his forehead, and clothed in native dress.

_Maybe Neelix was right in saying they shouldn’t worry; maybe this really was nothing more than the Trojanders extending further hospitality._

The drumbeats changed again, still rhythmic, but softer, and the Trojanders began to sing as they danced, in their dialect that most of _Voyager_’s crew could only manage to piece together.

The elders shepherded Janeway and Chakotay into the very center of the field, where the chieftain and one of the elder women sat and gestured Janeway and Chakotay to sit down across from them. A boy came to where they were seated, offering the Star Fleet officers a plate with a piece of bread cut in half, and all the while, the people danced, sang, drank, and ate around them.

Again, Tom reminded himself, _none of this had to mean anything. It was just… _happening_ in the middle of all the chaos of the party, right? Besides, Neelix hadn’t “raised an alarm,” yet, and if he knew of this species, then maybe there really was no harm in what was happening. _

Beside him, even B’Elanna shrugged, and Tom decided to let his suspicions go – just as Chakotay and the captain both bit into the halved slices of bread that they’d been offered, and the Trojanders burst into applause and shouts of glee.

_Why was their eating the bread such a big deal now, when the hospitable people had been offering them food frequently since they got here?_

Tom turned, trying to locate Neelix and hoping that he could answer that question, because the lieutenant really did have a sneaking suspicion that something was going on here. He located Neelix, wide-eyed with worry and trying to make his way through the dancers towards the captain and Chakotay. Neelix didn’t reach them, though, before Janeway and Chakotay were shepherded away by the same two elders towards the fourth mud hut. A younger man and woman came to stand back to back by the door of the hut, one angled to peer inside the hut while the other scanned the people still partying outside it.

Tom caught up with Neelix in time to hear him mutter a fierce curse under his breath, stopping just short of the people who appeared to be almost _guarding _the hut. “What’s going on there?” he asked tightly, nodding to the guards.

Neelix glanced at the duo, looking back to Tom as he said, “The one watching us is there to make sure no one goes into the hut; the one looking into the hut is there to make sure that if either the captain or the commander want out, they can get out without incident.”

“Which is important why?” Tom asked in growing confusion.

Neelix hesitated before saying as B’Elanna approached, “Seeing as they’re not going to let any of us in there to stop the proceedings, I think it might be best if I waited and discussed all of this with Commander Chakotay and Captain Janeway tomorrow, once we’re back on our way aboard _Voyager_.”

“Why won’t they let any of us in there?” B’Elanna asked. “Do the captain and Chakotay get special accommodations as the guests of honor tonight or something?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes – as long as I’m right about all of this, mind you. And if I am right, our time of objecting passed when the captain and commander went into the hut together.”

“Neelix, you’re talking in riddles,” B’Elanna objected impatiently.

“It’s for their privacy, at this point, I assure you, and I feel that’s a good enough cause. I’m sure if tonight’s events remain relevant, you’ll both understand everything soon enough.” With that – and with one more worried glance at the guarded hut housing their commanding officers – Neelix wove his way back into the middle of the crowd of revelers.

* * *

Harry talked Tom and B’Elanna down from storming the hut in a rescue attempt that they weren’t even sure was needed, and in the morning, Captain Janeway and Chakotay emerged looking like they’d gotten nothing more interesting than a good night’s sleep during their overnight. But apparently their “guests of honor” status wasn’t revoked yet; when they came out in the morning to meet the crew and re-board _Voyager, _the same two elders that had ushered them into the hut the night before shooed them back in with coy looks and laughter.

Their senior officers had all gone back to meet them in the field so they could walk together to _Voyager_, updating each other as needed, and now it was Tuvok who turned an arched eyebrow to Neelix, inquiring, “Do you know what custom this is? Should we be concerned that they’re being held against their will?”

Neelix shook his head, pointing out, “They didn’t seem in distress to me, from what we glimpsed of them. Likely, the Trojanders just wanted them to leave dressed in the native garb they gave them the night before.”

“Why would that matter?” Seven of Nine asked.

Neelix paused at the question before admitting, “I believe it would… signify to the Trojanders the end of the… ritual the captain and commander began last night.”

“What ritual is that?” Tuvok asked.

Neelix looked anywhere but at his fellow officers, staying silent for so long that Tom caved and said for him, “He told me last night he would rather discuss it with the captain and Chakotay directly.”

Tuvok’s eyebrows rose again, but he let the matter drop with a simple, “Very well.”

“Thank you,” Neelix murmured, gaze shooting worriedly back to the hut as Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay emerged from it exactly as Neelix had predicted: in their Trojander robes from the night before, but this time, where the ribbons they wore had been red and blue, they both wore purple.

“As long as you can promise us that we shouldn’t be worried for them?” Tuvok added to Neelix.

Neelix nervously shifted on his feet, admitting as Captain Janeway and Chakotay finally made it to them with their Star Fleet uniforms tucked under their arms, “That may remain to be seen.”

* * *

“Neelix,” Kathryn said, leaning over the counter of the mess hall to peer into his kitchen, having gone there as soon as they were out of Trojander orbit. “I was hoping to find you here.”

“Why’s that, captain?” Neelix asked, his gaze strangely… nearly _shifty_ as he perched his chef’s hat on his head.

“The Trojanders: you’ve heard of them before our visit to their planet, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know if there was any significance to the ribbons they gave Commander Chakotay and I? The whole evening last night seemed a bit… different from the rest of our stay there, and I wondered what your view of it all was.”

Neelix was openly fidgeting now, and he drew in a breath before he met her gaze and said, “I was hoping to talk to the commander and yourself about that privately, actually.”

Noticing his growing gravity, her own brows creased with a single line of worry as she asked, “Is it that important?”

He nodded hesitantly.

“Can this wait?” She gestured to the Talaxian tomatoes he’d set out to begin dicing, and again he nodded. “Let’s go to my ready room, then, and I’ll have Chakotay meet us there.”

In a few minutes, Kathryn was sitting behind her desk, with Chakotay and Neelix across from her, informing Chakotay, “Neelix has something he would like to discuss with us about the Trojanders.” Giving the hesitant Talaxian what she hoped was an encouraging smile, she prompted her clearly-nervous morale officer, “What was it you wanted to tell us?”

“Well, captain,” Neelix began to wring his hands, but at least he was talking as he said, “You asked about the ribbons you were given…”

She nodded, prompting, “The food, accommodations, and even the clothing, didn’t seem terribly unusual given their hospitality towards the crew, but the ribbons seemed significant to them, from what little I could understand of what they were telling Chakotay and I.”

“You’re correct in that; they are significant in certain Trojander rituals.”

“’Rituals’?” Chakotay repeated. “You mean we took part in some sort of alien ritual without even realizing it?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Neelix agreed, licking his lips.

Kathryn felt rather as if she was having to pull Neelix’s proverbial teeth as she asked, “What kind of ritual was it?”

“Ah…” Neelix hesitated again. “You see, that’s where it gets a little… sticky.”

“…Because you’re unsure what type it was?” Kathryn hazarded.

“No, captain. Because I know exactly what kind it was.”

“Then what _was _it?” Chakotay repeated. “You must think it important if you intended to tell us about it anyway.”

“I did, but now that I’m here, I’m beginning to think that it doesn’t even have to matter, even though, frankly, I agree with the conclusion the Trojanders came to in that you’re very well suited to… the ritual you partook in together—”

He was beginning to truly ramble, and Kathryn hadn’t had enough coffee yet that morning to be able to parse out what he was actually getting at, so she held up a hand to stop him before he could get too far gone. “Neelix,” she requested with a patience that she could still manage to feel for now, “As simply as you can, tell us: what sort of ritual was it?”

“The country folk of Trojander are known for their hospitality, as I believe I mentioned to you before. More specifically, they are known for their very simple and straightforward…” he paused for a very long while, clearly searching for the right word. “Well, I suppose there’s no way around it,” he admitted, almost to himself, before looking between Chakotay and Kathryn again. “They have a very quick and easy marital ritual that they are notorious for in this quadrant. Rather, I believe, like Earth’s historical Las Vegas, people have been known to visit the planet so that they may marry through those simple customs. Due to the language barrier, and possibly some other factors, I believe there was a miscommunication with the Trojanders, and they were led to believe that we were there for the not-irregular-to-them purpose of allowing the two of you to take part in a marriage ritual.”

Neelix froze like a startled deer, waiting to see the reactions of his commanding officers, but, for her part, Kathryn sunk back into her chair, eyes wide, as Chakotay froze like Neelix while looking as shocked as Kathryn was sure she did.

She blinked a couple times and swallowed, trying to regain her voice before she asked Neelix for clarification, “Do you mean to tell me…” she waved a hand between Chakotay and herself, “That those people _married _us? By giving us food, and clothing, and a place to sleep for the night?”

Neelix nodded.

“Explain,” she ordered, feeling rather proud of herself for sounding so level despite how light-headed she suddenly felt.

“In dressing you in their clothing – and in you allowing them to do so – they took you temporarily under their law, so that the marriage would… stand, be legitimate. The red ribbon in your hair, captain, was indicative of…” he blew out a breath, struggling to find appropriate wording once again. “The bleeding that a… well, a virgin bride often experiences on her wedding night.” Kathryn’s eyebrow twitched, but she let Neelix continue his explanation rather than interrupt with any of her own thoughts. “The blue ribbon, commander, has a more symbolic meaning, when, in the morning you emerge from the hut both with purple ribbons, signifying the ‘blending’, or consummation of the marriage, that should’ve happened the night before.”

“And what about the bread we were given for the couple of minutes that we were brought back outside last night?” Kathryn asked, though she wasn’t sure she even cared, she felt so dazed still.

“Eating halves of the same piece of bread signifies your willingness to share your lives and resources with one another. It is also the window of opportunity that those attending the wedding party have to object to the proceedings.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?” Kathryn asked in exasperation.

“By the time I was sure what was going on, I didn’t have time to get to you before they ushered you off again. For that, I should apologize, captain, commander.”

“So that’s it? We’re just… _married_?” she asked, sitting up in her chair and weaving her hands together on the desk.

Neelix nodded, but chose to remain mute now.

“Thank you for your explanation,” she said.

Chakotay added, “And as long as you tried to stop the proceedings, there’s no need to apologize for at least attempting it.”

Neelix nodded again, murmuring, “Thank you, commander.”

“Dismissed, Mr. Neelix,” Kathryn said, keeping her voice carefully neutral. When the ready room doors slid shut behind him, she raised her eyebrows at Chakotay, muttering, “I never…”

Chakotay moved to sit on the edge of her desk, saying, “I suppose we should’ve asked him if he knew how to annul the marriage.”

Kathryn stared at him thoughtfully, her folded hands pressed to her mouth as she studied him. Hope and caring warred so often with his professionalism in this room, and it was happening rather more openly than usual as she watched his expression remain neutral despite the raging tumult in his eyes. “Chakotay.” The seriousness in her tone caught his attention, and where he’d been staring past her before, his gaze snapped to hers as she swallowed a sigh. “I know we haven’t talked about… anything like we talked about on New Earth since we got back _from _New Earth, but…” she swallowed roughly a second time, trying, like Neelix had been, to find the right words for the idea blossoming in her mind, fluttering hopefully to life in her chest. “Maybe this is a… a sign – if I even believe in such things, I don’t know. No one has to know if we don’t want them to, if it doesn’t work, or if we think it will affect their view of us.” She let just an inkling of the hope in her chest leak into her eyes as she said softly, “But we could… make the best of it. We could try, here, if you’re willing.”

He blinked at her, startled all over again, as he asked, “Are you? Willing to try, I mean? To be married to a member of your crew… I thought you believed it wasn’t a good idea.”

“I do,” Kathryn nodded, allowing herself to sigh now as she stood and rounded the desk to sit beside him on its edge. “But I also think that,” she ran her tongue over her teeth, such confessions coming far from easily to her. “To me, you are worth the attempt.”

“You’re compromising your beliefs?” Chakotay asked with an arched eyebrow.

“No… not necessarily. I’m taking a chance on the notion that my beliefs are wrong.”

“And if your beliefs are right, and this… attempt is a mistake?”

“Then we will have learned from our mistake, and you and I both know that we are painfully capable of putting aside our emotions when we need to. But… maybe I want to find a way to…”

“Have your cake and eat it, too?” he suggested, a hesitant smile starting to tick at the edges of his mouth.

“Can we really do that?”

“We can try, if you want to.”

“I do. If you do?”

Now Chakotay smiled fully, his choice of words not lost on either of them as he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss the back of her fingers. “I do… my wife.”

Kathryn chuckled at the absurdity of it all, but the idea made her heart flutter all the same as she put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. _After all, if she was his wife now, she was going to take full advantage of all that the title afforded her. _


End file.
